


This is Only a Drill (The Anytime, Anywhere Remix)

by igrockspock



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Getting Together, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock
Summary: The year is 1993.  The Cold War is old news. Don't ask, don't tell is brand new.  Poe Dameron is the best fighter pilot in the Navy, and he's in love with a man.





	This is Only a Drill (The Anytime, Anywhere Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celeste9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Still a Little Hard to Say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863153) by [celeste9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9). 
  * Inspired by [The Shirt Off My Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011083) by [celeste9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9). 



On his thirty-fifth birthday, Poe did something he’d longed to do for almost a year: he kissed Finn on the deck of _USS Nimitz_ with a bright orange sunset blazing behind them.

Poe had come back to the _Nimitz_ early, even though this was the first time in a decade that shore leave had aligned with his birthday. He’d intended to get drunk with his friends. Instead, he got tipsy and maudlin. Watching Iolo smile at girls and seeing Jess drag guys onto the dance floor stabbed at his heart. When Iolo shoved a girl toward him, he left alone and took an early launch back to the ship. 

The fantail was deserted in the evening, just as Poe had hoped it would be. He leaned over the railing, letting the breeze ruffle his hair. He could see the city in the distance, silhouetted in the orange glow of the sun, and he imagined he could still hear shouts from the distant shore. Shaking his head, he quashed the last of his envy. He was a fighter pilot, maybe the best in the Navy, and the commander of his own squadron. That was plenty to be grateful for.

“Poe?”

“Hey, buddy,” Poe said. He didn’t have to turn around to realize the voice was Finn’s, and he closed his eyes for a moment before he turned around to greet him.

“You okay?” Finn asked. “You came back early.”

Poe heard footsteps on the metal decking, knew Finn was moving closer toward him. The thought made him flush with warmth; he could only hope that it didn’t show on his face.

Poe nodded. “I just needed some space.”

The smile slid off Finn’s face. “You want me to go?”

Already he was taking a step back. 

“Nah, I don’t mind if it’s you,” Poe said quickly, unable to watch Finn retreat. He swallowed, added, “I never mind if it’s you.”

The smile that blossomed across Finn’s face was quick and radiant, and Poe felt himself smiling back.

What was he _doing_? None of this was right, no matter that he’d wanted Finn the first day he’d heard his voice from the air traffic control tower, guiding the squadron safely back home. Some days he let himself believe that Finn wanted it too, but to act on it was unthinkable. Finn was a subordinate, and almost brand new to the Navy. He didn’t understand the stakes as well as Poe.

But Finn was close, close enough that Poe could feel the heat radiating from his body. The ATC tower was deserted, the ensign on watch had fallen asleep, there was no one to see, no one to judge. Poe couldn’t resist the warmth creeping through his body, or the looseness spreading through his limbs. When he turned toward Finn, their fingers brushed together, and when Finn didn’t flinch away, he was sure they both wanted it.

Later, Poe couldn’t say who had started what -- who’d laced their fingers together, who’d leaned in for the kiss. It was soft at first, mouths closed, both of them half-straining for the sound of someone rushing across the deck to tear them apart and drum them out of the Navy. Then Poe made a little sound in the back of his throat, and suddenly Finn’s hand shot out and curled around Poe’s hips, pulling them flush together. Poe tilted his head back, letting Finn push him back against the railing -- and then Finn broke away.

Poe pulled himself up straight, swallowing back the years of loneliness and longing, the memories furtive rendezvous on shore leave, as far away as he could get from prying eyes. He was ready to promise they could forget about it, that it would never happen again -- the same dull routine he’d reenacted the three or four other times he’d let things go too far with another officer.

Finn retreated just far enough that the distance between them looked appropriate. In the distance, Poe saw the ensign on the watchtower shake himself awake. And then Finn smiled.

“We should take this somewhere more private,” he said. 

Poe nodded once, heart thudding in his chest. They walked off the deck together, just two friends, nothing to see, and Finn waved at the ensign on his way out.

***

Waking up with Finn in his bed was the most confusing morning of Poe’s naval career -- which was really saying something, considering some of the wild nights he’d had before he’d gone to Officer Candidate School and gotten respectable.

The room came into focus slowly - beige walls, fold-down desk, tiny bookshelf bolted to the wall. And then Finn’s ass, nestled against Poe’s crotch. Somewhere on the floor was an empty bottle of whiskey, which was not technically allowed on a Naval vessel. Of course, homosexuals were _also_ technically not allowed on Naval vessels, and here he was. Don’t ask, don’t tell and all.

He knew he ought to move. Wake up Finn before sobriety and morning light made things awkward. Then they could figure out how to get out of his quarters without anybody noticing. The problem was, it felt so _good_ to lie here next to Finn. 

Poe had enlisted on his eighteenth birthday, ten years after his mom had died in an accident on the _USS Constitution._ He hadn’t known who he was then. For years, he’d told himself that he just hadn’t met the right girl and ignored the way his gaze lingered on other guys. By the time he figured it out, he’d was in flight training, and the choice seemed easy. Why trade a lifetime in the sky for a hypothetical relationship with some perfect guy he might never meet? Everybody made sacrifices in the Navy, and pretending to be straight didn’t seem like such a bad one.

But it wore on him, even though he tried to push it to the back of his mind. Most of the time, he succeeded, but this morning he couldn’t tear his eyes off the slow rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He traced his fingers over Finn’s arm and swore he’d get up in just a minute.

And then Finn woke up.

Poe forced himself to pull back -- not that there was much room to move in his tiny bunk. Still, he should give Finn some space. He was young, they’d been drunk, what they’d done could get them kicked out of the Navy. If Finn wanted to panic, Poe had to accept that.

But Finn only stretched, pressing himself closer to Poe, and murmured, “Good morning.”

Poe leaned down, ready to press his lips against Finn’s sleepy smile -- and that was when the alert klaxon reverberated through the ship.

Finn scrambled out of bed, Poe close behind, and they both fumbled for the tangled pile of uniforms on the floor. Dressing fast was Navy SOP, but when they got to the door, they both panicked. Boots were rattling over the decking outside as officers flooded into the corridor. If they stepped out together, a dozen of their crewmates would have credible evidence of fraternizing and homosexual activity -- the kind of thing their superiors would be bound to investigate.

Which didn’t matter as long as the red alert siren was blaring outside, Poe reminded himself fiercely. People could be _dying_.

He swung the door open, keeping his body concealed behind it.

“You first,” he muttered to Finn. In the rush to battle stations, surely nobody would notice who came out of which door. 

He waited a few seconds, then slipped out into the corridor. At first, he thought he was clear. Then he felt a sharp tug on his sleeve and spun around.

Jessika Pava was staring at him with wide eyes. “Sir, your uniform,” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

Poe frowned, not taking her meaning. Then he looked down. The name emblazoned on the front wasn’t his. It was Finn’s. In the scramble to get dressed, they’d switched their shirts.

He looked at Jess and shook his head. There was nothing to do about it now except run toward battle stations and hope for the best.

***

Poe was leaning against the wall in the ready room when he heard the announcement.

“All crew, stand down. Thank you for your excellent performance on today’s battle readiness drill.”

Moans of frustration and disbelief echoed through the room; half the pilots were still hungover from the night before. Poe pressed himself harder against the wall, trying to keep his arms crossed over his chest. Maybe nobody had noticed he was wearing the wrong shirt before, but now that the drill was over…

Jess strode toward him from the back of the ready room. She looked like a woman on a mission. He knew the rules: “don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t harass, don’t pursue...but eyewitness testimony of prohibited behavior is grounds to begin an investigation.” If Jess reported him, she’d only be following the rules, but his stomach clenched at the thought of a public confrontation. She was one of the first female fighter pilots in the Navy, and he’d always had a soft spot for her, even if he couldn’t tell her exactly why. He willed himself to meet her eyes.

“You should really do something about the laundry, sir,” she said.

Poe blinked. “What exactly do you mean, Lieutenant?” he asked, feeling his patience fray.

“The way they’re switching our uniforms. I mean, please, I don’t want Ensign Sholokov’s underpants delivered to my bunk anymore. Getting stuck with his uniform top is bad enough.” She tapped the gold-embroidered name on her chest. Sure enough, it said Sholokov. “I see they got you too,” she added, pointing at Poe’s chest.

“So they did,” Poe said, understanding slowly dawning.

“Half the enlisted guys in engineering got the wrong uniforms too,” she said. “But obviously, you’re busy. If you’d like to me to speak with the laundry myself, I’d be happy to take care of it.”

Poe barely managed to speak around the knot forming in his throat. “That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant. But thank you for your help.”

***

When the day finally ended, Poe slumped in his bed, sick with relief. His mom’s picture looked down on him, smiling as always. She’d been an aircraft mechanic when Poe was born. _As close as they’ll let women get to flying,_ she’d always said. She’d sworn she’d get her pilot’s license when she’d left the Navy. Instead, Poe had gotten a neatly folded triangular flag five days after his eighth birthday. Learning to fly had made him feel like he’d gotten a little piece of her back.

And he’d endangered all of that for -- what? A quick hookup? So what if he’d had a crush on Finn for the better part of a year? Of course he was the steady voice guiding planes home; that was his _job_. It didn’t mean that he and Poe had some special connection worth risking a career for. Finn would understand that. Hell, he probably felt the same.

Poe heard a soft tap at his door. When he opened it, he saw Finn on the other side, holding something in a plastic bag.

“The laundry gave me this by mistake,” he said, his back ramrod straight.

Poe knew he should take it with a quick _thank you, lieutenant._ Instead he looked back and forth down the corridor. When he was sure nobody could hear, he said, “Keep it. It looks better on you.”

***

Poe didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did. He kept Finn’s uniform shirt carefully folded in his bottom drawer, and he let himself sleep in it once or twice a week. As for the rest, well, nothing was stopping him from being friends with Finn, right?

Well, nothing except the awkwardness. The truth was, they’d never really _talked_. Giving landing instructions didn’t count as conversation, and neither did exchanging furtive glances across the mess hall for a year. 

After a couple weeks of avoiding each other, Poe slid into the seat across from Finn’s and immediately felt guilty when he saw Finn’s eyes light up. This was why you weren’t supposed to sleep with subordinates, Poe thought darkly. He’d taken advantage of someone who was basically a kid.

“I owe you an apology,” Poe said, pitching his voice too low for anyone else to hear. “What happened the other night was inappropriate, and I never should’ve let it go that far. I’m your superior officer, and --”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it wasn’t an eyeroll and a derisive snort.

“You think I slept with you because I’m some naive kid who doesn’t know how to say no?” Finn asked, leaning in close so that Poe could hear his angry whisper.

Poe felt heat flush across the face. “I, ah, no. I just --”

“Needed to tell yourself that it was a mistake,” Finn finished. 

Poe looked down at his plate. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he said slowly. “But it can’t happen again.”

Finn nodded once, short and sharp. “I get it. Is that all you came to say?” He started gathering up his tray, even though he was only half-finished with his dinner.

Poe tugged at his sleeve to stop him. “No, no. I came to ask if we could be friends. That’s what we can have, right? A really great friendship, without having to lie to each other about who we are.”

Finn smiled at that, even though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

And then came the awkward silence. What exactly did you say to someone after you endangered your career to hook up with them, and then ignored them for two weeks while secretly sleeping in their clothes? 

“Where are you from?” Poe finally asked. It seemed like a decent opening to the whole getting-to-know-you conversation, but the light in Finn’s eyes faded instantly.

“Around,” he said after another awkward pause.

“Okay, so you’re in witness protection,” Poe shot back. “Cold War’s over, so you’re not on the run from the KGB. So is it the Mafia or a drug cartel?”

Finn actually laughed at that. “Just foster care. I moved around a lot.” Then he leaned in closer to Poe. “Look, can I ask you some weird questions? The foster family I was with the longest -- uh, let’s just say they didn’t give me much free time. Or access to secular television.”

“Shoot,” Poe said, intrigued despite himself.

Finn pulled a tiny blue notebook from his pocket. Poe saw a long list of terms, some of which seemed to be followed by definitions, but Finn angled it away quickly.

“You ready?” he asked. Poe nodded, and Finn whispered, “Who or what is an ET?”

***

ET was in the ship’s library, but watching it didn’t go exactly as planned. The truth was, Poe was barely paying attention to the movie. He’d seen it three times in the theater the year it came out. Afterward, he’d convinced his dad to buy a used VCR in a pawnshop just so he could watch it at home. By now, he could fill in most of the lines from memory, and no power on this earth could make him block out the warmth radiating through Finn’s uniform -- never mind that they were sitting on opposite ends of the rec room couch.

Finn, on the other hand, was transfixed. And not in a good way. He leaned over and whispered, “ET’s the bad guy, right?”

Poe shook his head, and Finn gave him a funny look. “I don’t know, man. A weird alien just hid in that little girl’s closet, and now he’s brainwashing the boy so he can stay in the house. I don’t think this is going to end well for the family.”

“Just keep watching,” Poe insisted, resisting the urge to smack Finn on the shoulder. It wasn’t like anything would happen here on the ratty couch in the rec room, but still...better to avoid any temptation until he’d learned to think of Finn as just a friend.

Poe had never considered that ET might be viewed as a horror movie, but apparently that was how Finn saw it. When ET got sick, he leaned over and whispered, “Is it going to die now?” He looked alarmingly hopeful. Then the government scientists showed up with their white tents and hazmat suits, and Finn let out a slow sigh of relief. 

“I’m glad the government came to save Elliott,” he said. “But I really think that mom should’ve noticed the alien in her house sooner. Somebody’s going to call social services on her.”

Poe leaned over and pressed the stop button. “Buddy, you and I are watching a totally different movie. In fact, you are watching a different movie from the _entire rest of America._ ”

Finn looked unimpressed. “Nothing good hides in anyone’s closet. Period.”

“That’s point, Finn,” Poe said, feeling irrationally defensive of his favorite childhood film. “Everyone’s scared of ET because he’s an alien, but he’s not really scary. The tragedy is how everyone else reacts.”

“So when he phoned home, he _wasn’t_ tricking Elliott into helping him summon alien invaders?” He didn’t look convinced.

“No,” Poe said with an exaggerated sigh. “He was calling his family, and they came for him. Look.”

He fast forwarded to the end so they could watch ET’s peaceful family reunion. After his mom had died, Poe had worn out the tape watching that scene late at night, pretending that all he had to do was call her back home.

Finn swallowed hard as the credits rolled, and Poe thought he’d finally gotten the point of the movie. Instead, he shook his head and said, “It never works out that way in the end. Most people’s families don’t come back for them.”

Now it was Poe’s turn to swallow hard. “Did you call your parents and they didn’t come back for you?” he asked.

Finn just shrugged. He wasn’t looking at Poe or the screen anymore, and Poe got the impression he was somewhere very far away.

Before he could think about it too hard, Poe grabbed Finn’s hand and squeezed. “If you called for me, I’d come,” he said. “Anytime, anywhere.”

***

Poe let Finn go through his photo album sometimes. The request had surprised him at first, but he figured it made sense: Finn didn’t know what it was like to have a regular childhood, so he was curious about Poe’s. The thought made his heart hurt, so he let Finn flip through the photos as often as he wanted, even though having Finn in his quarters exposed him to dangerous temptations.

Right now, Finn was sprawled across his bed, propping the little black album up on the pillow. Poe had propped the door open -- _nothing to see here, boys!_ \-- but that didn’t stop the images flashing through his mind. Lately, he hadn’t even been thinking about sex. He pictured a house, cooking breakfast together, sleeping in the same bed. Normal stuff, like everyone else got to do. Poe hunkered over his desk, trying to refocus his attention on the new FA-18 schematics that Navy had sent out. It was no use, and his head snapped right back up when Finn asked a question.

“Who’s this?” he asked, tapping one of the cellophane-covered pages in Poe’s album.

Poe accepted the book from Finn’s outstretched hands and tried not to flinch when he saw the photo. Ben Solo was front and center, a rare grin illuminating his face. Commander Skywalker was sitting on the couch next to him, halfway doubled over with laughter and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Poe couldn’t remember what they’d been laughing about; at the time, it had seemed too ordinary to record.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, then finally came up with, “We used to fly together.” 

“But something happened,” Finn said softly. It wasn’t really a question.

Poe nodded. “Ben was an amazing pilot, but he was cocky. Didn’t know his own limits. There was an accident.” No, that wasn’t right; it spared Ben too much responsibility. Poe shook his head. “He caused an accident. He died. So did two other pilots.” 

“Your commander?” Finn asked, glancing at the stripes on Luke’s sleeve.

“Relieved of duty and dishonorably discharged for failing to keep adequate discipline. Nobody’s heard from him since.” 

The corridor outside was silent; lights out was coming. Poe stood up, preparing to say goodbye to Finn. But Finn stayed on the bed, staring down at the photo.

“You and Ben….you were, ah --”

“Yeah. We were,” Poe said tersely. He closed the photo album quickly and looked toward the half-open door. “It’s almost 22:00.”

He pretended not to notice the wounded look in Finn’s eyes.

***

Poe slept badly the next two nights and managed to avoid seeing Finn -- not that he admitted that’s what he was doing. He was just working, filling out evaluation forms and reviewing schematics and leading calisthenics for his squad. It wasn’t hard to stay busy from lights on to lights out.

Maybe he would’ve gone on ignoring Finn, if he hadn’t run into Jess. She was doing sit-ups in the corner of the hangar bay, and the drone the hydraulics drowned out all the sound around them.

He sat down next to her and cleared his throat. It was the first time he’d seen her alone since the morning of the drill. He owed her a thank you; he just wasn’t sure what to say.

“Sir?” she asked, pulling herself into a vague approximation of attention.

“Don’t do that. It’s not official,” he said, trying to wave away her unease. He cleared his throat again. “I owe you a thank you.”

She shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“I kind of think I have to. What you did --”

Jess cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand. “No, really, don’t mention it. I did it for me.”

Poe blinked. “You did?”

Jess snorted. “You do realize that commanders who trust and respect female pilots are pretty hard to come by, right? You think I was going to take my chances with whatever sexist asshole they put in charge after they drummed you out?” 

“Well, when you put it _that_ way…” Poe conceded. 

“Look, who you love is none of my concern.” Then she grinned. “Just don’t squander the opportunity, alright?”

***

Showing favoritism was wrong, but Poe took Jess off hot CAP and put himself on the duty roster instead. The job was about as miserable as it came: you sat on the runway, fully suited up and ready to launch, just in case the combat air patrol had to take off right away. Of course, the _just in case_ never materialized, which meant that you spent eight hours sitting on your ass in a tiny metal can for nothing.

The shift Poe took was particularly heinous. The gray skies quickly turned stormy, and the _Nimitz_ tossed in the waves. Every time the bow dipped, salt spray showered over the cockpit. It was impossible not to feel cold, no matter how many layers he was wearing.

Then Finn’s voice crackled through his headset, and warmth surged through Poe’s chest.

“Haven’t seen you in a few days,” Finn said. He must have been alone in the control tower, watching the same gray rain lash the windows.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Poe answered, leaning back against the headrest. 

“Any reason you were avoiding me?” Finn’s tone was carefully neutral, but Poe knew hurt lurked underneath.

He swallowed, trying to find the words. Eventually he settled for, “I don’t really talk about Ben that often. It just...caught me off guard.”

Finn was quiet for a moment, and Poe listened to the rain spatter against the cockpit. He had the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something important, some truth about his feelings for Ben and his behavior toward Finn, but he couldn’t articulate it yet.

“You didn’t really get to grieve for him,” Finn said finally. “That must have been hard.”

Poe clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to warm up his fingers. “Yeah. It was.”

“You had to pretend he was less to you than he was.” Finn’s voice sounded far too distant, and Poe wished they were having this conversation face to face so he could reach out and squeeze his hand. 

“But I don’t still --” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m not still in love with him.”

He thought he heard Finn draw a sharp breath, but maybe it was just static crackling over the intercom. 

“He had this dark side,” Poe went on. “He could get mad so fast, and I’m pretty sure he was blackmailing the integrity watch officer to stay away from our sneak spot.”

“The integrity watch officer?” Finn blurted. His voice sounded lighter, and Poe felt some of the tension slide out of his shoulders.

“Yeah, they used to have somebody who patrolled just to look for people hooking up,” he said, grinning a little at the memory. “Once one of the guys dressed up like Pennywise from It and popped out of one of the lifeboats. Scared the poor man shitless. He didn’t patrol down there for a good six weeks.”

Finn’s laughter crackled over the intercom. Then Poe heard him inhale.

“You know I don’t have a dark side, right?” he said, his voice going soft. “I don’t get mad, and I’m not reckless.” He took a long breath. “If you called, I’d come. Anytime, anywhere”

***

They didn’t get to talk again -- at least, not about anything important -- until shore leave rolled around. Poe boarded the liberty boat, feeling strangely weak at the knees. Finn was already waiting for him somewhere on the far shore.

“Nice pants, sir,” a glib voice called from the prow.

“Thanks for adding the sir, Pava. It almost makes you sound respectful.” Poe could feel heat creeping across his cheekbones, but at least his sarcasm hadn’t deserted him.

Jessika just shrugged. “What’s disrespectful about complementing your fashion choices, sir? They show off your assets very well.”

Poe leaned in a little closer. When he was sure no one was looking, he murmured, “Really?”

Jess nodded, flashing him a white toothed grin. “Really.”

***

Finn met him on a white sand beach far away from the strip of bars that had drawn in most of the crew. In the two hours he’d been ashore, he’d put together a whole picnic backset. All Poe had managed was to buy a six-pack from a convenience store, and suddenly he felt inadequate.

Finn patted his beach towel invitingly, and Poe settled down on the opposite end, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. Why had he worn pants to the beach? And when had he gotten so terrible at this?

“Alright,” Finn said, jolting him out of his reverie. “Out with it. I haven’t done much of this whole relationship thing before, so I don’t know how to read the signs. If you’re not interested, I think it would be easier for both of us if you just said it.”

Poe’s stomach dropped. “ _No._ I mean, of course I’m interested. I’m more than interested.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Of course I want you.”

Finn snorted. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. You were so weird after we slept together, and after we talked about Ben. And then you show up, looking all tense and worried…”

Poe slid his hand along the towel until his finger’s bumped into Finn’s. He laced them together, and Finn looked up with a sudden half smile.

“I didn’t want to pressure you, Finn. Look, it’s not easy having a relationship like this in the Navy, and I’m your superior officer. The last thing I would want was for you to feel like I was pushing you.”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “That is some grade-A bullshit, Commander. You know how I grew up. I’m pretty good at looking out for myself.”

Poe squeezed his Finn’s head. “You’re right,” he said slowly. He wanted to look away, but he forced himself to look Finn in the eye. “The truth is, I was protecting myself. I was -- I mean, I _am_ \-- scared. Terrified.”

Finn leaned forward to rest his forehead against Poe’s. “Me too. I think that’s what’s supposed to happen when you care about something.”

Poe chuckled in spite of himself. “Here I was trying to protect you, and you’ve been smarter than me this whole time.”

“If I’m so smart, then just listen to me,” Finn said, tilting his head up toward Poe’s. “Just kiss me, please.”

And Poe did.


End file.
